


Like You A Latte

by kkeutkaji (minseoqt)



Series: FD Fic Fest [2]
Category: GMMTV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minseoqt/pseuds/kkeutkaji
Summary: Frank has a little problem with a barista who keeps misspelling his name, but he's too kind (and hot) to be ignored.
Relationships: Drake Sattabut Laedeke/Frank Thanatsaran Samthonglai
Series: FD Fic Fest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892116
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Like You A Latte

Frank first heard about this coffee shop from Khaotung, who had boasted about how he was hired to work there part time thanks to his amazing ability to make latte art. Frank is pretty sure he’s exaggerating because he isn’t even _that_ good (had learned the skill on the past two months and only got to master ONE art doesn’t really count) but he loves coffee shops, so it won’t hurt to try.

He chooses the day when it isn’t Khaotung’s shift and he thinks he should reward himself later for making such decision because on the counter standing the most beautiful human being Frank has ever landed his eyes on, and his smile is so bright it rivals the sun.

After taking a deep, nervous breath, Frank walks up to the counter. Gorgeous Barista smiles at him, and it’s simply impossible for Frank to even look somewhere else but the barista’s eyes.

“Hello, can I take your order? Dine in or take away?”

“One... uh, iced caramel latte please, for take away.”

“One iced caramel latte,” the barista punches Frank’s order onto the machine. “What size?”

Frank thinks to just give this a shot, so maybe not too much of caffeine today. “Tall,” he says after a moment.

“That would be 117 baht.”

Frank pays the coffee using his card. The barista processes the payment quickly and returns the card to Frank while his other hand holding a cup. “Your name?”

“Frank.”

“Okay. Please take a seat and wait, your order will be ready in a moment!”

Ten minutes later, the barista appears beside Frank with his million dollar smile and hands him his coffee. “Here’s your coffee. Enjoy.”

“Aren’t you supposed to call my name to let me know my coffee is ready? You don’t have to bring it out by yourself,” Frank accepts the cup with a grateful smile, but his smile drops when he reads the name written on the cup: Fred. Who the fuck is Fred?

“Just thought I wanted to do it myself,” the barista says, smile never falters from his face. Frank doesn’t have a heart to tell him he has misspelled his name. “Have a nice day.”

***

The barista misspells Frank’s name for the second time by writing it as Frong, and the third time as _France_. The misspelling saga continues and Frank starts to worry if the gorgeous barista actually has a problem in hearing but he doesn’t seem to be aware about it yet, but Frank keeps coming to the shop for two major reasons: 1) the barista is hot; 2) the coffee tastes wonderful, and after his fifth coming Frank decides that the coffee from this place is his favorite and he never wants to buy coffee anywhere else.

Frank never has his coffee messed up with another order too since the barista is kind enough to leave the counter just to personally serve his coffee, and the barista has gotten used to see him at the shop he remembers Frank’s order. But still, the misspelling gets to the point where it’s worrying. Frank wants to test by ordering with another name but he doesn’t do it because it will make him look stupid.

Frank decides to ask Khaotung the next day, after the barista misspelled his name for the sixth times.

“Do you think my name is too difficult to spell?”

“No?” Khaotung frowns. “What makes you think that?”

“Because the barista at your shop keeps misspelling my name,” Frank replies. “I start to think that he either has problem with his auditory, or he just doesn’t know how to spell my name but too polite to ask me. Nobody has ever mistaken my name five times in a row, so I think the problem is with him and not me.”

Khaotung shoots Frank an intense glare. “A barista from my shop,” he repeats. “Do you mean Drake? Wait, it must be him. The one behind the counter is either me or him, and since you’re an asshole you must be showing up when he’s on shift instead of me, your best friend.”

“I don’t see why it makes me an asshole,” Frank laughs. “But yes, it’s probably him. Is he always weird or?”

Khaotung still fixes his stare on Frank when he says, “Dude, he’s half white. Can’t you tell from his face? There’s no way he would misspell your name, it’s not like your name is rare or something. On the contrary, I think your name is pretty common. He must’ve heard the name Frank several times even before he started going to kindergarten.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Frank groans. “So it’s really the problem with his hearing, then?”

“No, what the fuck,” Khaotung cackles. “He’s hearing just fine. I’m not sure why it happens, but he’s perfectly normal. I think he just wants to mess with you.”

Frank frowns, “Is he pulling a joke on me? It’s not even funny. It’s _concerning_.”

Khaotung shrugs, “Dunno, but you’re still coming to the shop nonetheless. So maybe he thinks it does work.”

Frank can’t really tell his friend that the actual motivation of repeatedly going to the shop is because the barista—Drake, isn’t it?—is hot, and watching him work at the counter while waiting for his coffee is lowkey satisfying.

Still, Frank feels the need to ask him when he comes to the shop the day after.

“Do you not know how to spell my name?” he carefully starts, when the barista writes down his name on the cup. Frank can’t see what he wrote but already senses another misspelling today.

“I do,” Drake replies and smiles. “Your name is Frank, isn’t it? Of course I know how to spell your name.”

It’s a lie if Frank says he doesn’t like the way his name sounds from Drake’s mouth. He gulps and puts on a casual expression, hoping Drake doesn’t notice the weird excitement.

“Then why do you keep misspelling my name on the cup? You wrote my name like you don’t even recognize the word.”

“Maybe because I like the way your face changes whenever you get your cup,” Drake shrugs. “And you’re kind enough not to correct me even though I did misspell your name multiple times.”

“Were you going to write it correctly if I told you you wrote it wrong the first time you did it?” Frank raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe. Yes, or maybe no,” Drake grins and honestly it should be a sin to look this gorgeous when he’s being ridiculous, and is obviously playing with Frank. “Please take a seat, your order will be ready in a moment!”

***

Frank should’ve seen it coming, but he’s still surprised.

Drake slips in a piece of paper on the table when he puts down Frank’s order from the tray, winking at him. Frank gives him a look that translates to, _the hell are you doing?_ but Drake doesn’t say anything, quietly slides back to the counter to serve another customer.

Sighing, Frank takes a glance at the piece of paper and he frowns. On the paper it’s written: _My name is Drake, and I want to be more than your ... (check ur cup, beautiful ;))_

Slowly, Frank turns his cup to read what’s written there.

 _Friend_ , it says, on where his name should be.

_My name is Drake, and I want to be more than your friend._

Frank laughs so hard he surprises everyone inside the shop.

***

“You’re so bad at flirting, you know.”

Drake looks up from the machine and chuckles at Frank. “At least my point was delivered, and that’s the only purpose of doing it.”

Frank crosses his arms on his chest. “So you’re writing my name wrong on purpose all this time?”

“It was to get your attention, at first. But then you made this cute face when you read what I wrote on your cup yet you never complained, and you’re still coming here often. Now it becomes sort of a habit, but I can stop if you don’t like it.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it,” Frank interjects. “It’s just. If you were playing with me before, how can I be sure you weren’t just playing again this time?”

Drake sighs, looking left and right to make sure no one is watching them and takes Frank’s hand in his.

“I like you a lot,” he whispers but the words ring loud and clear on Frank’s ear. “I know I’m not good with this romance shit, and I thought I had to do it in a barista way. And I’m planning to keep up with the flirting until you told me I should stop.”

“And if I tell you I like you too?”

A smile blooms on Drake’s face. “Then you should go out with me.”

(That day, Frank gets home with a _You’re beautiful_ written on his cup. He looks up and his eyes meet Drake’s who smiles at him, making a gesture of phone call. Only that time does Frank realize that Drake has stuck a post-it note under his cup with his phone number written there.

Frank can’t help but laugh, telling himself that oh my _god_ , he likes Drake a lot too.)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is a bad pickup line but somehow i think it suits them haha. 2 down with more to come!
> 
> till we meet again,  
> tami


End file.
